An excerpt from Price Point/Scene 3 (“The Impossible Cycle”). Here, we gather at the site of many intense economic decisions—the kitchen table—and build a polyrhythm loaded with frustration & catharsis.

One response to “‘Price Point’ Video #1”

In 2011 Honey Pot served up that sweet, hot brew called Ladies Ring Shout and left an audience member like me licking my lips waiting for more. Enter 2013’s Price Point so delectable, so full bodied, so courageous you won’t be able to pinpoint the source of your tears and laughter.

Genius is HPP’s multi genre approach where member Abra Johnson is poised as an existential co-voyager reading her own work along with excerpts of Karl Marx and others . HPP further simplifies and complicates the space with fine footage from Deepak Chopra and Melissa Harris Perry for all the talking head addicts out there. Finally, there is a masterful infusion of financial terms defined and projected onto the wall doing what all true hustlers do… work triple time. The definitions serve as narrator, setting/backdrop, educational infrastructure, intellectual flirt…alladat, all at once… hot damn! And straight ahead is Meida McNeil, Aisha Jean-Baptiste and Felicia Holman steadily sharp, never flinching, and daring the audience to be as vulnerable as they are. These women are so Nikki Giovanni “Ego Trippin” badass, they invite you to get down on your hands and knees in a unique homage at the end of the performance. And you should…

… because all of THIS demands the audience be multiple. One CANNOT just ‘watch’ Price Point. There is too much feeling that spirals up and out and around to just ‘see’ the show and file it away as “a-really-cool-show-these-Black-chicks-with-cool-hair-did-“. All of us work with, watch, fuck, love, resent, honor, see past, desire, wonder about , hate, revere, take from, envy, study, dance with, and inquire about these types of women presented in Price Point. There is an unveiling of secrets and a stirring of consciences in Price Point.

From the scenes of gut-busting contagious laughter to the nerve clattering demands for piece/peace, the performance tickles the back of your head, grabs your throat and massages the whole heart all at once somehow leading me to the famous saying, loosely translated here, ‘the cure for everything is salt water- tears, sweat ,or the sea’. And briny, viscous, heady, and rooted, HPP brings it all and delivers it onto your lap. Do with it what you will.